


You'll Learn

by kipsi



Series: Our Time Will Never End [3]
Category: King Arthur (2004)
Genre: Blood, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-05 00:12:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1087298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kipsi/pseuds/kipsi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had never been afraid like this before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You'll Learn

He watched with widened eyes how the crimson decorated the now unmoving body of a Saxon, the sparkle of life died from the eyes that stared back to him. He could still feel his blade piercing through the flesh of his enemy, his sword buried deep into him, the warm lifeblood gushing from the wound.

He was frozen into place, gazing down at the man. The Saxon had caught him unawares, attacked him from behind, and all he could do was to swing his sword reflexively at him. He had been sure for a moment that his strike wouldn't land on his enemy at all, but it went in deep, the shock so great that Galahad had stumbled back and gotten his enemy's blood all over himself.

Galahad could feel the blood trickling down his face and he shuddered as he finally pulled his sword free from the corpse. He startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder. As he snapped his head up, his eyes locked immediately with the familiar dark ones that seemed to always see right through him.

The look that he was given was a reassuring one, and Galahad could feel as if he was drowning into those dark pools of tranquility. They stared silently one another, Galahad fearing the whole time that those eyes would turn gleeful and that the other would mock his weakness. Instead, Tristan lifted his hand up to cup his left cheek, rubbing circles into his skin with his thumb, smearing the blood there.

Tristan's eyes were gleaming, and Galahad held his breath, feeling that warm palm against his own blood-soaked cheek. He couldn't get a word out of his mouth, he was paralyzed in place. This seemed to amuse Tristan; his lips forming a small smile, which was so unusual to him that it took Galahad's last breath away. His smiles were as rare as the most precious gems, and it made Galahad always feel so special when the other gave one to him.

”Blood truly suits you,” Tristan murmured while caressing him, ”but you better make sure that it's never your own.”

The statement held a powerful message, and Galahad caught it right away, his eyes widening slightly. He took in a deep breath, at last able to breathe, and lowered his eyes onto the cold body not far from where they stood. He shivered at the memory of the outlash. He could have died today.

Tristan's warm breath ghosted on his face, and Galahad lifted his eyes up to his again. The dark eyes he was gazing in were for once very much alive; the raw sentiment shining from them, and Galahad had to admit that it was truly beautiful.

He shivered under Tristan's stare and startled when he felt his thumb on his cheek, wiping the moistness away. He realized only then that he was crying.

The warm palm rested on his jaw, and now Galahad could see his own vision blurring, the tears forcing their way free. He felt ashamed of crying. He had thought that he would be better than this, yet here he was, weeping like a little child. He closed his eyes against the tears, not wanting to see those maroon eyes regarding him.

”Shh, you're very much alive,” Tristan whispered into his ear while holding the shaking form of the younger knight. Galahad trembled and Tristan could feel every tremor going through his body. He withdrew from the embrace and tipped the other's head up. Galahad opened his eyes to see a quick glimpse of concern before Tristan brushed his lips against his.

The touch of their lips was a soft and gentle one; something that seldom happened, and Galahad felt it welcome, as he still sobbed silently. Tristan could taste the salty tears on Galahad, and the copper tang of blood. The other's hand was tangled into his hair, taking hold of his braids, the other gripping his tunic for comfort.

Galahad was the one to pull away first, his eyelashes still wet and glistening, the image something that captured Tristan's sharp eyes instantly. He slid his thumb over Galahad's lower lip and granted him another smile.

”You'll learn, pup.”

**Author's Note:**

> It wasn't supposed to be this sad, I swear.


End file.
